to be held is the most honorable psalm
by Bag Of Badgers
Summary: 2015 GerIta Secret Santa for tumblr user disastrous-donut; ItaGer first time. All of this—all of this—would be so much easier to process if Feliciano would stop smiling at him like that.


All of this— _all_ of this—would be _so_ much easier to process if Feliciano would stop smiling at him like that. It's making Ludwig's heart do incredibly agitating things, more so than it's already doing from, well, from what _they're_ doing. But then there's the part of him, the not inconsiderable part, that thinks the look Feliciano is giving him, full of affection and concentration, is probably the best look Ludwig's ever got from anyone. And the fingers—the fingers help. They definitely—help.

They're not really helping with Ludwig's heart, or with his breathing for that matter, and definitely not with processing _anything_ that's going on, but Feliciano spreads them wide and a sudden warmth blooms in Ludwig's abdomen and the noise he lets out at that, one he didn't know he could even _make_ , and then the way Feliciano's eyes widen and his grin gains a couple more teeth—okay, _not_ helpful. Very not helpful. Very embarrassing. Very—

"Do that again, please."

"Do what again?"

"You _know_." Ludwig tries to glare at him but, with one leg up on Feliciano's shoulder and the other trying to curl around his waist and two of Feliciano's fingers inside of him, it loses quite a lot of its authority. "The—with your fingers, what you just did with them."

Feliciano's smile changes to a beatific twist of his lips and Ludwig groans because oh God he _would_ tease him right now, wouldn't he. He drums the fingers of his free hand on Ludwig's shinbone. "Well, I just did a lot of things with them, didn't I? You have to be more specific, you always tell _me_ to—"

"Feliciano is this really the time."

Feliciano drops his voice a couple octaves in imitation of Ludwig. "'Felichen, you can't just ask me to hand you the 'thingy' and expect me to know what you mean'."

"Would you just—" Ludwig huffs and then loses the rest of his sentence in a moan when Feliciano, still with the angelic little smile, spreads his fingers again and, _fuck_ , slips in a third one. It's _this close_ to being too much and Ludwig gives him another glare even weaker than the last and completely abandoned at the first motion Feliciano makes.

It's still strange, even if it does feel good, having anything inside him like this. He and Feliciano have been—intimate—before, definitely, but they've just never got around to doing _this_ , they've been out of condoms and the convenience store was closed or one or the other of them wasn't up for it or they were just too nervous (Ludwig still privately thinks, and Feliciano has expressed the same opinion, that whoever first attempted anal sex must have been an unspeakably brave person), and he'd tried fingering himself once or twice but it had just felt weird and he couldn't see what he was doing.

With Feliciano it still feels weird but the other man _can_ see what he's doing and along with the weird there's good, there's—very good. Especially the way he just curled all his fingers.

"Think you're ready?" Feliciano's voice is a bit earthy, and he's got dark pink spreading across his cheeks, and Ludwig thinks _ready_ and then has some difficulty swallowing.

"I…think so?" He shouldn't be nervous, they've talked this out and he dealt with fingers well enough and it's _Feliciano_ for God's sake, the man has trouble killing spiders. Ludwig takes a couple breaths in through his nose and then nods. "Yeah."

"'Cause if you're not I'm pretty sure I could get you off just like this."

His face is already quite warm, but it gets warmer. Feliciano probably could, is the thing, but despite that and despite his nerves Ludwig is going to go through with this. "No, I think I'm ready." Ludwig recognizes these nerves, too, they're the same ones he had when he'd kissed Feliciano the first time even though Feliciano had already kissed him quite a lot by that point, so going by that example this will hopefully end up well.

Feliciano's hand rubbing the outside of his thigh, digging gently into the thick muscle, brings Ludwig back to the present situation. He pulls out his fingers, a little too quickly, and then his brow furrows the tiniest bit and he says "Uh, Ludwig, I don't think I can reach the condoms from here, could you hand me one?"

Ludwig obliges, muttering, "You could just put down my leg and get them yourself."

"But your leg is _nice_. Besides you'd have to let go of me with your other one." Feliciano takes the condom from him with a "Thanks!" and unwraps it.

"Feli, I think you're about to put that on inside out." It's a little hard to tell since Ludwig has to crane his neck to get a good view.

"Oh. Ooh. Yeah." Feliciano laughs breathily and rolls it on the right way. "Good catch." He sighs, then, and draws a hand down Ludwig's abdomen, pausing a moment to stroke his cock a couple times before wrapping around his own. Ludwig drops his leg from around Feliciano's waist to give him a bit more room. Still gently running his hand along Ludwig's thigh, Feliciano starts to slide in. Even with how slow he takes it, it still burns a little and feels plain _weird_ , weirder than fingers, and Ludwig takes a sharp breath in through his teeth and digs his heel into the bed.

Feliciano freezes in alarm. "Are you all right?"

"Mm—fine, just—it's a bit uncomfortable, I'm not used to it," he says. "I'll be—I'll be fine." Ludwig tries to shift his hips and find a better angle, and Feliciano doesn't quite manage to suppress a moan.

"You _sure_?"

" _Yes_ , Feli," and at that, Feliciano presses a quick kiss to the side of Ludwig's knee. The skin there is sensitive and Ludwig involuntarily jerks his leg a bit, luckily just enough to avoid knocking Feliciano in the head as he begins to push in again. That would probably send the wrong message.

The stretch is still not terribly pleasant once Feliciano is fully inside. Being so full—it's odd and unfamiliar and a little raw (Feliciano keeps staring at him, he feels _exposed_ more than anything else, really) and it makes Ludwig _very_ aware of his entire body, and yet underneath that there's, there's arousal and excitement and things Ludwig isn't quite sure he's got the words for if there even are any. And his heart, which has already taken quite a lot in the past minutes and Ludwig doesn't know how much more it can handle (then again, if it were going to explode because of Feliciano, it would have done so years ago), begins to batter against his ribs.

Ludwig wraps his leg around Feliciano's waist again, and Feliciano takes a little shuddering breath. His pupils are very large, only a thin ring of brown around them, and Ludwig watches him lick his lips and then squeeze his eyes shut when Ludwig makes a tentative motion with his hips. A little bit of the discomfort falls away, replaced with heavy warmth in the pit of his stomach, and he rolls his hips forwards again.

"Can I—" Feliciano murmurs, fingers digging into Ludwig's thigh and hip and body actually shaking a little from the effort to hold still, and Ludwig answers with one _yes_ and then another and a third that turns into a gasp when Feliciano pulls out just enough that the thrust back in just might make him see a star or two. Soon it's just the heat inside of Ludwig, no longer nerves, and he's incredibly aware of—of his heart beating in his ears and the blood rushing through his body (quite a lot of which seems to be currently in his face, and only a little less in his cock) and and the low, breathy noises he can't seem to stop making and the way he's stretched around Feliciano and the way Feliciano is looking at him like he's the best thing he's ever seen.

Feliciano leans forward enough that Ludwig's leg slides off his shoulder and more down his arm, and the change in angle has Ludwig biting back a couple really embarrassing sounds and arching his back for more contact. "Faster, please," he manages to get out, and as Feliciano speeds up Ludwig reaches down to touch himself, shaking when Feliciano brushes up against his prostate. Feliciano is talking to himself, under his breath and too fast for Ludwig to make out, but he thinks he catches a _beautiful_ somewhere in there and his breath hitches in his chest for just a second, and then again on a particularly deep thrust.

With some effort, Ludwig tries to angle his hips and legs so Feliciano will get to his prostate more often. It works, at the expense of a lot of his leverage, but he almost doesn't mind not being in charge of the pacing, not when his breath is coming short and heavy and colored with little moans or when Feliciano braces himself on one arm for a couple thrusts that send sparks racing down Ludwig's arms and legs and curl his toes, make his hand stutter in its motions and his whole body tighten—

With a high, shuddering noise, Feliciano comes, bent low enough over Ludwig that the tips of his hair just barely brush against Ludwig's chest. He murmurs something that Ludwig can't hear over the blood rushing in his ears and his own heavy breaths and bows his head a little more to kiss Ludwig's sternum. "Oh," he breathes, almost to himself, and then looks up at Ludwig's eyes—down at his hips—back up, and his face takes on a rather sheepish cast, and he says "Oh—oh, sorry—here, I'll," and sets Ludwig's leg down and scoots down the bed.

Ludwig has enough time to register that Feliciano sliding out of him is just about as strange a feeling as entering him, and he almost whines a little at the loss but what comes out instead is a small moan as Feliciano takes him into his mouth. He bucks up without thinking and Feliciano makes a surprised sound and plants both hands firmly on Ludwig's hips.

"Sorry," he says, or thinks he says, he feels—really very dizzy right now, but it must come through because Feliciano gives him a little pat on the hipbone before hollowing out his cheeks and making a little humming noise that shoots right through him and adds to the heavy coiling heat at the base of his spine. Ludwig is really at a loss as to where to put his hands, simply gripping the sheets doesn't feel like anywhere near enough but he knows if they go in Feliciano's hair he'll end up pulling especially if Feliciano does _that_ with his tongue again. Instead he lets his head drop back and his mouth fall open around a curse, arching up as much as Feliciano's hands will let him.

And then Feliciano nudges a couple fingers back inside of him, holding them curled, at the same time as he lowers his head so slowly down and Ludwig tries to give him some kind of warning but only manages a shaky "Feli—" before he curls inward and his orgasm knocks every last ounce of breath from his lungs.

He's only just managed to get it back, blinking, a last few shudders trailing through him, when Feliciano sits up just enough that he can flop onto Ludwig's chest and drive the air right back out. Sprawled on top of Ludwig, Feliciano smiles so hard his eyes close; he's almost laughing although he seems a little winded. Ludwig reaches down to tilt Feliciano's face up and Feliciano gets the hint and gives him a soft, full kiss that's almost enough to make Ludwig not notice how sticky they both are.

Ludwig isn't sure he's really up to doing anything about that right now, though; and the most Feliciano seems to be willing to contribute is a muttered "This feels gross" before pulling off the condom (which, luckily, manages to make it into the trashcan) and straddling him with his hands folded over Ludwig's breastbone and his chin on his hands so they can be somewhat face-to-face. Ludwig settles his hands in Feliciano's hair and combs out a few tangles before consigning himself to the reality that he's not doing anything concretely helpful with it and just wants to—to pet Feliciano. Feliciano is not averse to being petted, and makes a pleased little hum.

The hum turns into a "So?" and Feliciano brushes his knuckles along Ludwig's cheek.

"So…?"

"So how are you feeling?" Feliciano stops trying to hold his head up and lets it rest in the hollow of Ludwig's neck, where it fits quite well. Ludwig's heart, miraculously holding up after what just happened, does something…fluttery at the thought.

He frowns slightly in thought, sorting through all the words he can think of, and settles on "Warm?", which makes Feliciano laugh quietly and kiss his throat, which is quite possibly the best answer in the world.


End file.
